Anna McEvans: Part II of Consequences
by Iris Messenger
Summary: A one-shot in Jasper's POV. When Jasper leaves Maria, he hopes to stop the killing that surrounds him...But why can't he seem to do any better? This takes place several weeks before he walks into the diner and meets Alice. Pre-Twilight, Eclipse Spoile


The trail of bodies is growing.

Jasper hates himself every time he kills someone, hates that he can't see a way out of the carnage that surrounds him. He left Maria to stop killing, but he hardly does better by himself. It's too hard, the venom pulses into his mouth and immediately his mind fogs over and the brutal murderer he hates surfaces. And the civilized, reasonable Jasper cowers in a corner and _watches_, not doing anything.

It has been two weeks since he has fed, and the back of his throat is on fire with a raging thirst that pushes him to roam ceaselessly in search of prey. No, humans. He will _not _think of them as merely food.

The suburbs of a city are a torture, children playing in the front yards and people out talking walks in the late summer. It isn't sunny, thank goodness, so he can walk along the streets and shadows. He very nearly kills a toddler who stumbles too close and trips, her chubby legs scraped and a single drop of blood oozing out—filling the air around her with the scent that fights for control. Jasper stops, rigid, battling the urge for satiation.

He can feel the pain in the toddler, the bewilderment that she had fallen, and the curiosity about the strange man who stared. Automatically he calms the child down.

A mother, plump, young, pretty, runs quickly to comfort her child, glaring protectively at Jasper. He nearly pounces and sinks his teeth into the woman's pale neck where he could see her pulse.

No.

With an inward roar of frustration he tears himself away from the two humans and kept towards the city. When he is out of the neighborhood he runs, relishing the wind that washes away the smells that make him lose control. Only casual flickers of emotion bother him now, and it is blessed relief to have the silence overwhelm him.

Finally he enters the city and had to reign himself in.

You see, Jasper had a strategy…

He tries to taste the emotions of those in the back alleys. The ones with a darker feel were his victims. He is more likely to rid the world of a bad person that way. The guilt that pursues him was less ferocious that way.

Jasper makes his way to the back alleys and starts hunting. It was harder to maintain control when his entire body is in anticipation of relief. Most times he can manage it. Some days, he kills the first creature that gets in his way.

There is a small theater, cozy, full, and the applause lets him know that the show was nearly over. The smell coming from the people all packed inside the small space lures Jasper there almost without his knowing. Then he catches himself at the door and doesn't move further.

_Keep in control_.

The emotions… Separate the emotions that he can sense.

He feels amusement, a few waves of disgruntlement, euphoria coming from the actors, lust coming from some of the men. Perhaps the lead is beautiful.

Jasper quickly ducks to the back of the building before the men and women come out from the show, hot and luscious smelling. The scent is enough to drive him half mad. Somehow he holds onto himself.

Then the back door opens into the alley, right beside him, and a young chorus girl comes out.

She's beautiful, long red hair like silk, piercing green eyes and long eyelashes. Her face is tired, though she can't be more than eighteen. She wears ballerina slippers and a costume that's immodest by the day's standards.

The girl doesn't notice him.

She's tired and sad and Jasper realizes that he's feeling _shame_ coming from her. This surprises him. Then he realizes that she's probably a run-away, scraping the worst sort of living.

The smell of her, hot and blood pumping from dancing, sends him wild with longing. He moans and takes an involuntary step forward. She notices him and presses against the wall.

"Stay away from me." She whispers. Jasper can feel her fear and distrust. It jolts him momentarily back to reality.

"I'm sorry ma'am." He says quickly, calming her down and making her unafraid.

She still looks distrustful. "Who are you?" She asks sharply. Jasper pauses.

"Jasper Whitlock, ma'am." He replies, still fighting for control of the monster that wants to eat her.

"Anna McEvans. I didn't see you in the audience."

Jasper curses slightly. "I wasn't watching." Keep calm. Don't kill her. But it's hard, and he can feel he's slipping.

"I'd have noticed someone like _you_, anyway. So what are you doing here?" She keeps asking questions, Anna does. The girl doesn't have any sense of self-preservation.

And Jasper can feel curiosity and a faint undercurrent of admiration and attraction. 

Just what he needs. He wants her to be petrified at the very thought of coming near him. He wants her to run and not stop until her scent is away.

But the cunning predator inside him keeps on sending out the calming vibes.

The girl suddenly frowns. "I hate this!" She shouts into the empty streets, and to Jasper. There's unrestrained anger flowing from her. And longing, and dreams. "I hate wearing the skimpy costumes, I want to dance for real people, not on side clubs where they barely pay you enough to eat. I want to be _something_."

Jasper is shocked by the outburst. "I know." He says, surprising himself. He does know what it feels like to want to be something more.

He's finding it easier not to kill her, finding himself wondering who Anna McEvans is, wants to know her story. Jasper pulls himself away from that train of thought though, because he can't control himself well enough. The longing for closeness disturbs him.

It occurs to Jasper that vampires are not meant to be solitary creatures, any more than humans are.

Then Anna McEvans blushes at her outburst, and the sudden up rush of blood triggers the monster inside of Jasper. For a moment his mind turns to the quietest way to kill her.

No.

Why Jasper doesn't leave is beyond him…perhaps it is because this is the closest thing he's had to conversation since he left Peter and Charlotte.

Then Anna sits on an empty crate, still watching him half warily and half with admiration, she takes her slippers off.

And on her feet are blisters, the fabric of the flimsy dance shoes is bloody.

In a few minutes the alley is empty, and Anna McEvans will never dance again.

Jasper takes the corpse to an abandoned place and drains it, not even thinking about what he's done. He's not even capable of thinking about it when he's in this state. The smooth sensation of relief, of her life blood flowing thickly into him—it disgusts him when he lets himself take control too early.

But soon enough he's back, looking at the pale body of the girl who could have danced for queens if she'd been allowed to live.

Anna McEvans.

Jasper forces himself to think about her—to think that she had a life and friends…On her finger is an engagement ring…So Anna was to be married. Some man will miss her, and then the unborn children will never grace the world.

Jasper forces himself to feel every bit of shock and terror and pain that Anna felt when he pounced and broke her neck in one easy motion. And then he forces himself to feel the guilt instead of making excuses. He takes a sick sort of pleasure in feeling all the misery and pain, it feels like punishment for killing the innocent girl. Her face is peaceful, despite the violent nature of her death. Jasper wipes dirt from her face and straightens her clothing, and then he carries the corpse out to the forest by the city and buries her in a small clearing.

He resolves to control himself better next time.

It's weeks until he hunts again, and his eyes are black as pitch.

It starts to rain as he approaches the outskirts of a small town. For some reason he doesn't understand, he heads towards the small diner in the outskirts. And he opens the door, and he goes in…


End file.
